pretty panhandle picture post
The Florida panhandle had some delightfully picturesque sections. My first draft of this folder had over 50 photos, but i think i culled enough of the endless white sands that i will no longer bore you. Enjoy the pictures, and perhaps you can imagine the whiplash i experienced when i hit the now 2-day long section of dull private estates and suburban-style development on the so-called "nature coast" (pff).
The opening shot is taken as i cycle into Gulf Islands National Seashore, which is a national park that is distributed across several barrier islands in Florida and Mississippi. This is the road from Pensacola Beach to Fort Pickens.
The next shot is also taken at Fort Pickens, showing a pond or lake in the dunes. I don't think this is formally a "dune lake". A bit further down the coast there are several natural dune lakes, which are a rare phenomenon where freshwater pools in the dunes and occasionally breaks through to the Gulf, exchanging water until the dunes move and it becomes a brackish lake again.
There are a bunch of bunkers and gun emplacements along the beach that have never seen action. This is a gun that was installed as a museum piece after the site was decommissioned. Seemed like a good spot for a selfie. I played some harmonica here too, for one of the first times on this journey.
Thanks to the very flat and largely treeless landscape, i got to see a proper sunrise.
I loved cycling through these sections of closed-off roads where the sand is reclaiming the space for itself. Shows you how quickly the roads would get buried if they weren't maintained.
This next picture might look unremarkable, but it's a perfect depiction of how utterly fucked up Florida urban planning is. This is one of many cookie-cutter residential highrises, the same kind that you will find all over the world. However, in Florida, instead of using those first three floors for retail, they are carparks. I couldn't believe it. This was taken on one of those barrier islands that have miles of beachside housing (mostly detached and semi-detached vacation homes) with no shops or restaurants or anything nearby. It's so fucking depressing.
Trying to wash out the horror of abysmal urban planning with a palm tree and a dune.
Cycling along one of the protected areas between the barrier island communities.
Sadly, a very large amount of the coastline is taken up with resorts and so-called "private beaches". Most of these resorts have boardwalks that lead out to the beach, between the buildings, but then they have locked gates installed so that only people who are staying in the resort can get to the beach. Of course you can legally just walk along the beach from a public access area and now you're on the so-called "private beach", but the idea is to create a bloc of rich landowners who monopolize all the access points along the strip so that it becomes increasingly difficult for the plebs to bother them. I hate everything about this. However, i do like fruity drinks, so i went to this resort-owned beach shack and watched a cabana boy clean umbrellas and set them out to dry.
Here are some shoes people left on the boardwalk at Topsail Hill state park.
Folks taking sunset selfies.
I had a bunch of photos of the section where i detoured onto a mountainbike single-track trail on the way to Grayton Beach. This is a relatively open section, where you can see the pines and the little palm tree bush things. In more overgrown sections, those palm leaves completely cover the trail so you just have to ride through blind and hope you don't get a giant spider in the face. Other sections were somewhat flooded, so you cycled through several inches of water and mud. It was really fun.
I'm not 100% certain, but i think this might be a photo of one of those dune lakes i was talking about earlier. I don't often get to take photos on a bridge because you're not supposed to stop, but whatever this was a bridge over, the road was really quiet.
This is probably the most beautiful campsite i rolled up to. I got there just at sunset. It's right on the end of the peninsula where the much uglier Panama City Beach strip is, looking north to some marina/resort development on the outskirts of Panama City. There were a bunch of hashtag vanlife type folks there. I suppose if you're a tech worker or an influencer, hanging out at a place like this for 20something a night - close to town, strong 4G mobile signal, electric and water hookup - is pretty much the perfect place to get hashtag vagabond lifestyle photos while still putting away a ton of money.
I can't remember where i took this photo, but i think it might have been downtown Panama City. The downtown is pretty ramshackle and has a lot of abandoned storefronts, but they are trying to do it up. I quite liked the vibe in Panama City, it felt a bit less depressingly suburban than Pensacola, although not quite as hip as Fort Walton Beach. (Just to compare military towns.)
This is a photo from Mexico Beach, the first small town after getting through Tyndall Air Force Base. The whole town was destroyed by a hurricane a few years ago, and almost the entire place is under (re)construction. In a few years, you won't be able to see the beach at all cycling through here, because all the access points will be blocked off by rich people's holiday homes.
I didn't think much of the town of Fort St Joe, but i did like this photo taken in the back alley behind their local American Chinese restaurant.
Further down the forgotten coast, the landscape changes to pine and palm woods that lead out to marshland before hitting the sea. All through these woods there are large, private holiday homes on stilts, or sheds where people semi-permanently park their boats and RVs as a theoretically cheaper version of a holiday home. (Not really cheaper considering these are all six-figure RVs.)
Marshlands on the forgotten coast.
This campground got wiped out by a hurricane a few years ago, and there are still large piles of dead palm fronds and branches around the place. The tent spots had been moved to a cluster of three presumably former RV spots where the electric and water hookups didn't work well any more. It was shabby - and expensive - but actually pretty nice to camp and wake up under palm trees.
Near the campsite, a tiny ferry that i think took people to St Vincent island.
I definitely rate the Florida panhandle very highly as places i enjoyed on this journey. Of course in these photos you are only seeing the nicest parts, not the trashy resorts or chain restaurants or suburban labyrinths that make up a much larger portion. But it is well-balanced - you can get all those things, and you can get peaceful stretches of nature too. The food is great. There are tourists and military from all over the US that add some cosmopolitanism to the place. There are lots of bike lanes, although there are also some rude drivers who appear to harbor an irrational hatred for cyclists. People are chatty and friendly, for the most part. Mississippi's coastline felt more "for the people" because so much of it is publicly accessible, but it's clearly still a bit of a struggling area, whereas Florida is definitely cashed up and bustling. I get why it's a popular destination.
Now, this fucking suburban hole i am in now on the other hand. Dear lord. I never knew you could build suburbs without a city attached to them, but Florida somehow found a way. Today i cycle through Tampa, then tomorrow i hope - i really hope - i get a little bit more of the panhandle feeling as i head further down the coast.
The opening shot is taken as i cycle into Gulf Islands National Seashore, which is a national park that is distributed across several barrier islands in Florida and Mississippi. This is the road from Pensacola Beach to Fort Pickens.
The next shot is also taken at Fort Pickens, showing a pond or lake in the dunes. I don't think this is formally a "dune lake". A bit further down the coast there are several natural dune lakes, which are a rare phenomenon where freshwater pools in the dunes and occasionally breaks through to the Gulf, exchanging water until the dunes move and it becomes a brackish lake again.
There are a bunch of bunkers and gun emplacements along the beach that have never seen action. This is a gun that was installed as a museum piece after the site was decommissioned. Seemed like a good spot for a selfie. I played some harmonica here too, for one of the first times on this journey.
Thanks to the very flat and largely treeless landscape, i got to see a proper sunrise.
I loved cycling through these sections of closed-off roads where the sand is reclaiming the space for itself. Shows you how quickly the roads would get buried if they weren't maintained.
This next picture might look unremarkable, but it's a perfect depiction of how utterly fucked up Florida urban planning is. This is one of many cookie-cutter residential highrises, the same kind that you will find all over the world. However, in Florida, instead of using those first three floors for retail, they are carparks. I couldn't believe it. This was taken on one of those barrier islands that have miles of beachside housing (mostly detached and semi-detached vacation homes) with no shops or restaurants or anything nearby. It's so fucking depressing.
Trying to wash out the horror of abysmal urban planning with a palm tree and a dune.
Cycling along one of the protected areas between the barrier island communities.
Sadly, a very large amount of the coastline is taken up with resorts and so-called "private beaches". Most of these resorts have boardwalks that lead out to the beach, between the buildings, but then they have locked gates installed so that only people who are staying in the resort can get to the beach. Of course you can legally just walk along the beach from a public access area and now you're on the so-called "private beach", but the idea is to create a bloc of rich landowners who monopolize all the access points along the strip so that it becomes increasingly difficult for the plebs to bother them. I hate everything about this. However, i do like fruity drinks, so i went to this resort-owned beach shack and watched a cabana boy clean umbrellas and set them out to dry.
Here are some shoes people left on the boardwalk at Topsail Hill state park.
Folks taking sunset selfies.
I had a bunch of photos of the section where i detoured onto a mountainbike single-track trail on the way to Grayton Beach. This is a relatively open section, where you can see the pines and the little palm tree bush things. In more overgrown sections, those palm leaves completely cover the trail so you just have to ride through blind and hope you don't get a giant spider in the face. Other sections were somewhat flooded, so you cycled through several inches of water and mud. It was really fun.
I'm not 100% certain, but i think this might be a photo of one of those dune lakes i was talking about earlier. I don't often get to take photos on a bridge because you're not supposed to stop, but whatever this was a bridge over, the road was really quiet.
This is probably the most beautiful campsite i rolled up to. I got there just at sunset. It's right on the end of the peninsula where the much uglier Panama City Beach strip is, looking north to some marina/resort development on the outskirts of Panama City. There were a bunch of hashtag vanlife type folks there. I suppose if you're a tech worker or an influencer, hanging out at a place like this for 20something a night - close to town, strong 4G mobile signal, electric and water hookup - is pretty much the perfect place to get hashtag vagabond lifestyle photos while still putting away a ton of money.
I can't remember where i took this photo, but i think it might have been downtown Panama City. The downtown is pretty ramshackle and has a lot of abandoned storefronts, but they are trying to do it up. I quite liked the vibe in Panama City, it felt a bit less depressingly suburban than Pensacola, although not quite as hip as Fort Walton Beach. (Just to compare military towns.)
This is a photo from Mexico Beach, the first small town after getting through Tyndall Air Force Base. The whole town was destroyed by a hurricane a few years ago, and almost the entire place is under (re)construction. In a few years, you won't be able to see the beach at all cycling through here, because all the access points will be blocked off by rich people's holiday homes.
I didn't think much of the town of Fort St Joe, but i did like this photo taken in the back alley behind their local American Chinese restaurant.
Further down the forgotten coast, the landscape changes to pine and palm woods that lead out to marshland before hitting the sea. All through these woods there are large, private holiday homes on stilts, or sheds where people semi-permanently park their boats and RVs as a theoretically cheaper version of a holiday home. (Not really cheaper considering these are all six-figure RVs.)
Marshlands on the forgotten coast.
This campground got wiped out by a hurricane a few years ago, and there are still large piles of dead palm fronds and branches around the place. The tent spots had been moved to a cluster of three presumably former RV spots where the electric and water hookups didn't work well any more. It was shabby - and expensive - but actually pretty nice to camp and wake up under palm trees.
Near the campsite, a tiny ferry that i think took people to St Vincent island.
I definitely rate the Florida panhandle very highly as places i enjoyed on this journey. Of course in these photos you are only seeing the nicest parts, not the trashy resorts or chain restaurants or suburban labyrinths that make up a much larger portion. But it is well-balanced - you can get all those things, and you can get peaceful stretches of nature too. The food is great. There are tourists and military from all over the US that add some cosmopolitanism to the place. There are lots of bike lanes, although there are also some rude drivers who appear to harbor an irrational hatred for cyclists. People are chatty and friendly, for the most part. Mississippi's coastline felt more "for the people" because so much of it is publicly accessible, but it's clearly still a bit of a struggling area, whereas Florida is definitely cashed up and bustling. I get why it's a popular destination.
Now, this fucking suburban hole i am in now on the other hand. Dear lord. I never knew you could build suburbs without a city attached to them, but Florida somehow found a way. Today i cycle through Tampa, then tomorrow i hope - i really hope - i get a little bit more of the panhandle feeling as i head further down the coast.